Between the Fortress' Walls
by Tri Lorian
Summary: Who wants Lancelot dead? {Complete}
1. Part One

"Gawain!" Gawain turned around at the sound of Jols' voice and saw the squire walking hastily towards him.

"Arthur has called a meeting in the fortress hall. He wants all his knights there as soon as possible. Have you seen Lancelot and Galahad?" Jols reported dutifully to the blond knight. "I've already warned Dagonet, Bors and Tristan, but I haven't run in to either Lancelot or Galahad."

Gawain nodded to the back of the stable. "Galahad is mending his saddle. I'll tell him. I haven't seen Lancelot since he left here some time ago." A frown appeared on Gawain's forehead and he looked to Jols questioningly. "Did Arthur say why he wants all of us gathered?"

"No," Jols shook his head. "Only that he wanted everyone there fast. I think he's still in his room though."

Gawain chuckled quietly. "That urgent, huh?"

Despite his words, Gawain gave his horse one last pat before he went out of the stable where he'd been grooming the stallion, and walked towards Galahad.

"I heard. I wonder if it has anything to do with the rumours about the Woad rebels…" The youngest of the knights put down the saddle he had been working on, and quickly left the stable right behind Gawain.

"We'll find out soon enough," Bors grumbled, while he and Dagonet joined Gawain and Galahad coming from the direction of the tavern, with Tristan close on their heels.

Gawain reached the door to the fortress' hall first and pushed open the heavy door. He scanned the room while he took a step forward to see if Arthur had arrived already.

"Sweet Goddess!" Gawain whispered scream was bloodcurdling.

Galahad bumped into Gawain as he suddenly came to a stop. While he tried to regain his footing, he looked past Gawain to see what had so startled the older knight. "Sweet Goddess!"

In the midst of the hall and the round table, Lancelot was lying deadly still. His face was turned towards the door through which the knights had just entered. His eyes were closed. His complexion a ghostly white, in sharp contrast with the deep red blood pooling underneath his head.

Tristan was the first to recover his bearings, and stepped past the others. While he jumped over the round table, he looked at Galahad. "Get Arthur! Now! Bors, get the healer!"

–– 8 ––

Arthur looked up from the maps he was studying when he suddenly heard the heavy footsteps running through the hall towards his room. Before he could get up, his door burst open and Galahad almost fell inside. As soon as he saw the look on Galahad's face, Arthur knew that something was very, very wrong.

"It's Lancelot! We found him in the main hall." The horror so evident in Galahad's eyes now also reached Arthur's. Without waiting for a further explanation, he rushed past Galahad, and ran as fast as he could to the fortress' hall.

–– 8 ––

Gawain and Tristan had both knelt down next to Lancelot. Tristan swiftly moved his hands over Lancelot's body to determine if there were any serious injuries except for the obvious one to his head. When he was certain there weren't any, he turned to Gawain. "We need to move him on his back, so we can examine his head. I'll take his legs and torso. You take his head. Be careful."

Tristan needn't have added the remark about being careful, Gawain thought. He had never seen Lancelot look this fragile, like he could break upon their touch. On Tristan's orders, he helped turn Lancelot around. He couldn't help but gasp audibly when he got his first look of the bleeding wound on Lancelot's temple and forehead.

Tristan immediately moved towards Gawain when he heard the reaction of his brother-in-arms upon turning Lancelot's head. He gently placed his hand to the left side of Lancelot's face trying to visualize the damage that had been done. He didn't have to say a word to relay to Gawain that this was serious, very serious.

–– 8 ––

Arthur had tried not to imagine the worst while he was running towards the great hall, but the sight that he came upon was worse than he had imagined. His best friend lying for dead on the stone floor, and two of his knights looking up at him with such fear in their eyes that it chilled the room. Arthur jumped over the table without slowing down from his run through the hallways.

He knelt down next to Gawain who had moved out of the way to allow Arthur to come close to Lancelot. Hesitantly Arthur moved to place the palm of his hand to Lancelot's face as Tristan had done merely moments before. "Lancelot? Lancelot? Can you hear me?"

Arthur looked for any sign that Lancelot had heard him, but none came. He looked to Tristan, who shook his head. "He's alive, but barely. His breathing is so shallow that I didn't see him moving at first. He has lost a lot of blood…" Tristan's voice hitched. "Obviously…" He looked around warily. "Whoever did this, hit him extremely hard…"

Arthur was about to ask if they had sent for the healer when the man in question came running into the hall through the large doors. On his heels were two of his assistants and Bors.

All of the knights looked on speechlessly while the healer examined the Sarmatian. Not once did the man give any assessment of the condition the knight was in. Bors was the first who couldn't stand it any longer. "Well? Is he going to be alright?"

The answer stunned Bors into silence again. "This night will tell…"

Gawain was the first to recover his voice. "What do you mean? Is he going to die?"

"No…" Arthur's exclamation was lost in the noise of the other knights. He couldn't take his eyes off of the man he loved like a brother, he was being mesmerized by the slow trickle of blood that was sliding down Lancelot's temple joining the pool of red on the floor. He was frozen with fear while he heard the healer ordering his helpers to carefully place Lancelot on a stretcher that had appeared out of nowhere. Then the next words of the healer reached him crystal clear.

"If he lives through the night and wakes before the morning, then he should be alright in time. If not, then only the gods know whether he'll live."

The last words unleashed a fury in Arthur that he didn't know he possessed. "NO!" The room was quiet all of a sudden. "He's going to live! He **is** going to live…"

He could see how Gawain was nodding in agreement, Galahad too.

The healer glanced at the Roman commander briefly with pity gleaming in his eyes before returning his attention back to his patient. "Be careful," he instructed to his assistants. "Don't jar his head." He turned back to Arthur. "I assume you'll want to come with him?" He didn't wait for an answer.

–– 8 ––

Arthur had been sitting next to the bed for hours already. The healer had cleaned the wound on Lancelot's head and bandaged it. It had not even taken that much time. The wound was deep over Lancelot's temple and more shallow but broader over his forehead. It was as obvious to Arthur as the healer that a lot of force had been behind the blow to cause such an injury. Already was Lancelot's face around the gash swollen and turning black and blue. Arthur knew it had to be very painful. He cringed at the thought of the headache that Lancelot would wake up to. He sighed. Not once had Lancelot shown any sign of waking during the ministrations of the healer. Not one twitch of an eyelid, not one sound out of his mouth. Maybe he had turned a shade whiter if that were possible.

Arthur had sent his other knights to bed. He knew they weren't sleeping, no more than he was. He wouldn't even be surprised if they were all in the tavern. But he had wanted to be alone for awhile during his vigil at Lancelot's bed side so he could think. Think about the possibility that Lancelot could die. Dagonet had phrased it well – Lancelot as lying in the bed looked like he had died already, but hadn't stopped breathing just yet. And also think about the person who had attacked Lancelot. Who could it be? And why? Who hated Lancelot this much that he wanted him dead? Arthur wasn't blind to the fact that the smug and moody personality of his best friend had caused bad blood at times, not to mention the many jealous women and men that trailed the womanizer, but never had he seen anything occur that had made him afraid of Lancelot's life within the fortress' walls. What had changed now?

TBC


	2. Part Two

The door to Lancelot's room opened quietly. Gawain quickly slipped in and shut the door behind him again quietly. He didn't look like he had slept, Arthur thought.

"None of us are able to sleep, and none of us were capable of waiting for news any longer," Gawain explained as if he had intercepted the Roman's thoughts. Arthur just nodded.

Gawain looked over to the bed. Lancelot's face seemed to have swollen even more since he'd seen him, his eyes circled by dark smudges. The once white bandages were stained red completely.

Gawain moved over to Arthur's side and placed a hand on his commander's shoulder, both offering and seeking comfort. "Anything…?" he whispered.

Arthur shook his head. Concern was etched in his green eyes. He turned around and pointed silently to a second chair that was standing against the wall. Gawain went to retrieve it and sat down next to Arthur. "Did the healer have anything else to say?"

Arthur shook his head once more. "No. He comes in here once ever so often, but there's been no change. Except that the swelling is getting worse, but that's to be expected…

They conversed for awhile in a hushed tone. Thanks to the quiet, both men immediately picked up on the soft moan that came from the bed. As one, Arthur and Gawain moved from their chairs to the side of the bed.

Arthur placed his hand on Lancelot's, unconsciously registering how cold the hand felt to the touch. "Lancelot?"

The two men waited for a response but none seemed to be forthcoming. Until suddenly Lancelot's eyelids began to flutter. It took a few seconds before his eyes opened slightly. He squinted against the light that the moon was spreading across the room.

"Lancelot?" Arthur prodded one more time.

This time the Sarmatian knight seemed to have heard him. He tried to move his head in the direction of the voice, but instantly halted as pain erupted in his head everywhere. He closed his eyes again quickly, hissing in pain.

"Don't try to move. You were hit over the head and you have a very severe head wound." Arthur's tone of voice was soothing, like talking to a small child. "If you can, try to open your eyes, but don't try to move…"

Very slowly the dark eyes opened slightly for a second time. His gaze rested first on Gawain, then turned to Arthur. Arthur saw the confusion and pain in his eyes.

"Wha…" Lancelot didn't continue as the word pounded around in his already throbbing head.

Arthur moved his hand from Lancelot's hand to his shoulder. "Shhh, just lie still for awhile. We'll alert the healer that you're awake." He looked over his shoulder to Gawain, who quietly nodded and left the room.

For once Lancelot did as he was told, and he just lay there trying to understand why his head felt like it was going to explode. Arthur had seen how the knight had winced when he spoke so he just rubbed his hand over Lancelot's shoulder to let him know that he was there without speaking.

After only a few minutes, Gawain returned with the healer in tow. "Ah, good, you're awake," the healer commented in a low voice, respectful of his patient's condition. Lancelot's eyes were now resting on the healer. He continued to look at him while the healer swiftly examined him.

Arthur noticed how Lancelot seemed to be shivering all over when the healer pulled the blankets back up. "Are you cold?" he asked in a hushed voice. As before, Lancelot's eyes wavered over to the person who had spoken to him.

Lancelot nodded once before he realized his mistake in moving his head. He screwed his eyes close tightly, and couldn't suppress a groan of pain. He licked his lips once, twice, before he swallowed.

Arthur immediately noticed the tell tale signs of nausea. He grabbed the bowl that had been standing ready on the small table next to Lancelot's bed, and was just in time to hold it when a wave of vomit came out of Lancelot's mouth. While holding the bowl with one hand, he wrapped his hand carefully around Lancelot's neck, taking care to avoid the swollen right side of his face, and tilted his head slightly to make sure that Lancelot wouldn't choke on his own vomit. Lancelot's body shuddered violently while he threw up several more times. Arthur wasn't even sure if the knight was still conscious. When he was more or less certain that the retching had stopped, he gently allowed Lancelot to lie back again.

When Arthur had put down the bowl, Gawain handed him a wet cloth. Arthur gently cleaned Lancelot's face, wiping away the beads of sweat on his forehead as well as the vomit on his lips. Lancelot's eyes stayed close, but the wrinkles of pain were still obvious in his face.

Arthur sat back down on the chair, rubbing one hand over his face, as in defeat. He watched the deadly pale man in the bed before him with much dread.

"It's good he woke up. We'll see what the next day brings, but either way, it's good that he woke up." With those words the healer left the room.

Moving towards the door, Gawain looked at Arthur. "He's right, Arthur. It's good he woke up. Lancelot's strong, don't forget that!... I'm going to tell the others that he woke up, and I'll come back with something to keep him warm. He was cold, wasn't he?"

Without taking his eyes off of Lancelot, Arthur replied. "Yeah, he was shivering. You'll find two furs in my rooms that should keep him warm enough…" Before Gawain shut the door behind him, Arthur called him back. "Gawain… thank you for reminding me that he's strong. It's just… he looks so… vulnerable…"

–– 8 ––

There were only a few hours left before sunrise when Gawain left, which Arthur spent dozing off and on in his chair. The tiniest of sounds would wake him. Only some originated from the man in the bed in front of him as Lancelot would shift his hands or legs always followed by a pained moan.

When sunset arrived the door to the room opened once more and Galahad entered. He was carrying a piece of bread in one hand and a bowl of broth in the other. Arthur accepted gratefully as his stomach growled.

Galahad sat down on the chair that Gawain had vacated earlier and studied his unconscious brother-in-arms. "Gawain told us what happened," Galahad said without turning to face Arthur. "He didn't wake up again, did he?" Unconcealed hope was tangible in his voice even if he thought he knew the answer already.

"No." Arthur couldn't suppress a helpless sigh. "He lets out a pained moan now and again but he never shows any sign of waking." Arthur paused for a moment. "Maybe it's for the better…"

Galahad's head whipped around, his gaze focusing on the Roman. "What do you mean? You don't want him to wake up?" he asked in an incredulous and angry voice.

"No! No… that's not what I meant at all! Calm down, Galahad." Arthur was surprised at the outburst of the youngest of his knights but he knew it only sprouted out of concern for Lancelot. And lack of sleep most likely, he thought. He placed a calming hand on Galahad's arm. "I just don't want him to experience the same pain again as he did last night! I know…"

Galahad would never know what Arthur knew as Arthur suddenly stood up from his seat as though he had been stung by a bee. When following Arthur's gaze, he saw how Lancelot was struggling to open his eyes. He moved to the other side of the bed and looked Arthur in the eyes. His commander communicated silently to remain still.

"Lancelot?" Arthur asked softly.

Again the dark eyelashes fluttered. This time Lancelot managed to open his eyes a little.

"Lancelot?" Arthur asked again. This time he was rewarded when the glazed and tired eyes of his best friend met his gaze.

"Arthur?" Lancelot's voice croaked from disuse.

"Yes. How are you feeling?" Arthur moved even closer to the bed, making sure that the other man didn't have to turn his head to see him.

"Wh… what happened?" Lancelot moved his left hand from under the blanket and furs that were covering him.

Arthur intercepted the hand before he could bring it to his face. He could feel the small tremors going through Lancelot's body. "You took a blow to your head. Don't worry about it right now. Are you in pain? Do you feel sick?"

"Yes. No… Yes, I think so," Lancelot looked exhausted while he'd been awake for no more than a few minutes. "What happened?" he pressed once more. "Was there a battle?"

Arthur realized that Lancelot had no recollection of what had occurred in the great hall. He didn't want to lie to his friend, but he didn't think that telling him the truth right now was the best alternative either. "Sort of. We can talk about it later. Should we get the healer? Are you in much pain?"

A rooster outside the valetudinarium crowed to announce the new day. Lancelot felt like nails and daggers were being pushed through his skull. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the sound and the pain.

Arthur watched concerned when Lancelot's face distorted in pain. In the morning light the extent of the bruises was becoming visible, but also the grey paleness of Lancelot's skin. Arthur watched and waited patiently until Lancelot opened his eyes once more.

He saw how Lancelot's lips moved to form words, but they were spoken so softly that he had to move his ear close to Lancelot's mouth to catch what he was saying. "The light? Is that what you are saying? The light hurts your head?" Arthur could barely make out the positive answer. "Then close your eyes. We'll make it darker in here. Go to sleep now…" he added, realizing that the dark knight had already complied.

Turning his attention from the once again sleeping man to Galahad, he stood next to the bed. "If we are going to make it darker in here, then we are going to need some kind of thick, dark cloth. Go to the supply warehouse and see if you can find anything suitable there, Galahad. And can you tell the men that he woke up again? They'll want to know."

With a curt nod which let his curls bounce, Galahad acknowledged Arthur's instructions and left the room.

–– 8 ––

It was Dagonet who brought a thick brown blanket into the room with him a short while later. "Arthur, how is he doing?"

"Dagonet. No change so far, he's sleeping." Arthur pointed to the small window through which bright light was starting to filter when Dagonet reached the blanket to him. "The light is bothering him. I thought we might be able to cover up the window to make it darker in here."

Dagonet nodded. "Yeah, that should work. We just need something to hold it in place…" Dagonet scanned the room, but didn't immediately see anything that would work. His eyes lingered on Lancelot. "He actually looks worse…"

Having had the same thought, Arthur wasn't surprised by his words. "I know."

It took awhile before the two men had found a way to keep the heavy blanket in front of the window, but when they did, it efficiently blocked the light.

"Arthur, if you want to get some sleep, I can stay with him," Dagonet offered.

"No, it's fine. I'd like to be here when he wakes up again. He was much more aware of things last time, and I think he'll want to know what happened to him next time he awakes. But thank you all the same, Dagonet." Arthur briefly clasped the big man's shoulder. "And thank you for bringing the blanket."

"No problem. Anything for Lancelot. And one of us had to go to the supply warehouse anyway."

Arthur threw a questioning look at his knight.

Dagonet chuckled. "Jols has been going on and on since last night about a water bucket that has gone missing. He was driving us mad, so we brought him another one."

"Missing?"

"Yeah, he says he used it in the morning and put it away where he always puts it away, but when he went back to the stables after we'd found Lancelot…, he…" Dagonet's voice trailed off, while his gaze swept over to the bed. From the corner of his eyes he could see Arthur pensively staring at Lancelot also. "You don't think that…"

"Find it!"

TBC

**A/N: thank you all for the wonderful reviews! Enjoy :)**


	3. Part Three

A small fire in the corner of the room was casting big shadows on the opposite walls. It gave just enough warmth and light for Arthur to be comfortable while sitting at the small table. He had been hesitant to light the fire, knowing that it would bother Lancelot when he'd wake up, but with the chill settling in his bones, he knew he was going to need some source of warmth. Besides, Lancelot's hands had turned to ice it seemed, and Arthur didn't want the Sarmatian to get any more ill than he already was.

Thankful for the light, Arthur had spread out some maps on the table to study, but his thoughts kept wandering off. He didn't believe for a second that Jols had hit Lancelot, but would it be possible that the missing bucket was what Lancelot had been struck with?

"Arthur?" A soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

Arthur swiftly moved to the bed, sitting down on it. "It's good to see you awake again." Arthur smiled reassuringly at Lancelot.

"Where am I?" Lancelot's eyes darted through the room. He tried to move a little, but decided against it as his head started to throb even worse. He couldn't suppress a groan of pain.

"Easy…" Arthur waited until Lancelot's features relaxed a bit before he answered.

Lancelot's eyes were fixed on Arthur's face and although Arthur could clearly see the agony in them, the haziness seemed to have elevated some.

"You are in the valetudinarium." Arthur didn't offer more of an explanation as he wanted to know what Lancelot remembered – whether he remembered who had attacked him. "How are you feeling?" he asked in a soft voice, considerate of Lancelot's headache.

"Like I've been kicked in the head by a horse, and then ran over by a dozen more. What happened?" Lancelot asked in a weak voice.

"You don't remember." It was more of a statement than a question.

"No…"

Arthur could see that Lancelot was trying to remember but wasn't surprised that he couldn't, considering the severity of his head wound. "You were attacked," Arthur offered. He waited a moment to see if that statement brought back any memories. When it didn't, he continued. "You received a blow to your head. You were unconscious when we found you. You'd lost a lot of blood already."

"Who…" Before he could finish his question, Lancelot suddenly squeezed his eyes shut and brought up his hand which he pressed to his stomach.

"Lancelot?" Arthur asked alarmed.

"I'm going to be sick." Lancelot began to struggle to sit up but the pain in his head sent him straight back onto the bed.

Arthur immediately moved forward to help Lancelot, while also grabbing the clean bowl next to the bed. He supported Lancelot's head while he once more threw up, bringing up what was left in his stomach, and dry heaving in the end.

When he laid Lancelot back down, his second in command was covered in sweat from the exertion.

"Feel better?"

"Yes." Lancelot sighed while keeping his eyes closed. He felt how Arthur stood up from the bed.

When Arthur turned back to the bed with a bowl filled with water and a wet cloth, he saw how Lancelot was following his every move.

"Who did this?" Lancelot's voice was now sounding weak and raspy. He tried to swallow but his throat felt raw and dry.

"Do you think you can sit up to drink some water?" Arthur asked while pointing to the cup standing on the small table.

"My head can't possibly hurt more…"

After retrieving the goblet, Arthur sat down back on the bed and gently placed one of his hands behind Lancelot's back and the other under his left arm. Slowly and carefully he pulled the Sarmatian into his arms, watching all the while for signs of discomfort or pain. Droplets of sweat immediately appeared on Lancelot's brow, but Arthur could feel how he was trying to help to sit up.

"Shit." Lancelot shut his eyes and bowed his head forward. His hand suddenly grabbed onto the front of Arthur's shirt, clutching it tightly, as though he was attempting to steady himself.

"Lancelot?" Arthur felt how most of Lancelot's weight was suddenly on his arms when the Sarmatian sagged forward slowly until his head was resting on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur couldn't read his friend's face with his head bowed down, but he could hear how Lancelot was labouring to breathe, only drawing in gasps of air. "What's wrong? Are you going to be sick again?"

Slowly he could feel Lancelot starting to breathe more calmly against him. "My head is spinning."

"Keep your eyes closed." Arthur shifted on the bed, so he could hold Lancelot up more easily.

A faintly uttered Sarmatian curse reached Arthur's ears. He couldn't help but chuckle. After spending nearly fifteen years with his knights, he had picked up on quite a few words in their native tongue and he knew very well that Lancelot's cursing was extremely rude.

After a few minutes Lancelot lifted his head tiredly. The bruises seemed to be even more pronounced than before as Lancelot had turned another shade paler yet again. "I was wrong."

It took Arthur a moment before he realized that Lancelot was referring to his own comment about his headache not possibly getting worse.

"Do you think you can keep down a bit of water?" Arthur wasn't so sure, noticing the green tinge of Lancelot's skin and the beads of sweat that were now pouring down his knight's face.

"I don't know but I do know that my throat hurts." Lancelot released his grip on Arthur's shirt some, sitting up slightly straighter, although Arthur was still supporting most of his weight.

Slowly Arthur removed his hand from Lancelot's back, ready to return his support immediately, and reached for the goblet with water. He handed it to Lancelot who took it with a trembling hand. Only then did Arthur notice that Lancelot had started to shiver over his whole body. "Are you cold?" he asked.

"No, I just feel exhausted." The tiredness was evident in his voice as well. After a first tentative sip, Lancelot drank more greedily.

"Don't drink too fast!" Arthur urged. "You'll get sick again."

When Lancelot finished the water, he seemed to have spent all his energy. The hand holding the goblet dropped to the bed, with the goblet rolling off of the bed, crashing to the floor with a loud clink.

Lancelot winced in pain. He closed his eyes. Arthur felt him slumping forward against his chest, but was ready for it. Moving his hands to support Lancelot's head, he gently laid him back on the bed again. Leaving his hand on Lancelot's shoulder for a moment. "Get some sleep," he said. "You need to rest."

While opening his eyes slightly, Lancelot turned his head to Arthur carefully. "You haven't answered my question yet."

Arthur should have know better that the stubborn Sarmatian wouldn't let up so easily. He sighed. "We don't know who attacked you." A brief pause. "But I promise you, we **will** find out!"

The fury in Arthur's eyes didn't escape Lancelot, even when his own eyes slipped close.

–– 8 ––

Arthur's back was hurting from dozing in the chair in a very uncomfortable position. Lancelot had slept fitfully most of the night. Arthur had spent numerous times at the side of the bed cooling down Lancelot's face with a wet cloth, while at other times he had been trembling with cold even under Arthur's two heavy fur blankets. For the past couple of hours though Lancelot seemed to have settled into a more peaceful sleep. Arthur had spent those last hours sleeping as well as the lack of sleep from the past two days caught up with him.

Gawain opened the door slowly and walked in to find both men in the room asleep. The creaking of the door when he closed it was enough to awaken Arthur though. Gawain watched as his commander rubbed his hands over his face and neck, trying to be rid of the sleepiness that hadn't left him when waking up. Sitting down on the chair next to Arthur's, he took in the pale appearance of Lancelot. "How is he?"

Pinning his gaze on Lancelot as well, Arthur shook his head. "Not so good. He woke up for a short time yesterday feeling sick and dizzy. And you can imagine the headache he has…" Arthur paused for a moment. "He doesn't remember the attack."

"You asked him about it?" Gawain sounded surprised. It didn't seem like Lancelot was well enough to be questioned yet.

"You know him… stubborn as always. He asked about it himself, and he wouldn't let it go until I told him what we know. Which is nothing…" Arthur remembered the vehement and passion that had been behind his words yesterday when he'd told Lancelot that they would find his attacker. He felt those emotions simmering within him as he watched how on the bed Lancelot was trying to find a more comfortable position to lie in, as always accompanied by a pain filled groan.

"We found Jols' bucket. Your guess was right. It is indeed what was used to strike Lancelot down. There was blood on the handle and the outside." Arthur could hear the same rage as he felt in Gawain's tone of voice.

Arthur blinked in surprise. "Where did you find it?"

"Tristan found it." Gawain explained. "It was buried at the cemetery. He spotted the upturned earth where neither of us did."

"But it doesn't tell us who did this." Arthur sighed.

"No, it doesn't. We were hoping that Lancelot might remember something…" Gawain looked at Lancelot with undisguised concern. "But I guess not."

Arthur stood up and tried to get the kinks out of his back.

"I can stay with him for awhile," Gawain offered.

Arthur nodded. "Thank you. I could use some time to stretch my legs and grab something to eat." He turned back to Gawain one more time before he left. "Warn me if he wakes up!"

–– 8 ––

It wasn't until after noon that Lancelot finally showed some signs of waking up again. The healer had stopped by in the morning, and had warned both Arthur and Gawain not to expect too much too soon, that it could take weeks before Lancelot would be recovered from the head injury.

For the last few minutes though Lancelot had been shifting a lot, rolling from his back onto his side and back, Arthur had noticed. He sat down on the bed, and placed a hand on the dark haired knight's arm, hoping to calm him down a little by his presence. When skin touched skin, Lancelot's eyes immediately snapped wide open, to be squeezed shut just as quickly when the light of the flames bored into his skull. He moaned in pain.

Soothingly, Arthur moved his hand up and down Lancelot's arm. He could feel the pounding of the other man's heart beneath his hand. The knight was breathing rapidly as well, as though he had been startled awake. When Lancelot opened his eyes slowly this time Arthur saw how they were dulled by pain. Arthur also noted the confusion in the dark eyes.

"Arthur?" Lancelot's voice sounded uncertain.

"Yes, I'm here," Arthur answered quietly. An unsettling feeling was taking residence in the pit of his stomach. "You should not move so much."

The confusion in Lancelot's eyes was only increasing. "Wh… what happened?" He tried to sit up, but Arthur gently put a hand on his chest.

"Please, Lancelot! You really shouldn't be moving around so much!" Arthur pleaded. "How are you feeling?"

"Horrible. What happened to me? Was there a battle? I… I don't remember…" He tried to bring his hand to his head, but he just couldn't summon up the strength to do so, and let his hand drop limply back to the bed. Lancelot saw the flash of grave concern pass over Arthur's strong features before the Roman was able to conceal his worry. "What's wrong?"

"You don't remember." Arthur whispered, mimicking his words of yesterday.

"No… Tell me what happened…" Lancelot's head felt like it was about to implode, but he tried to concentrate on his friend's face despite the agony. But Arthur seemed too preoccupied to answer. "Arthur? Please? Did someone die?"

Arthur could hear the fear in Lancelot's voice and realized that the Sarmatian was misinterpreting his silence. "No, no! There was no battle. No one died! Except… you almost did." Looking up into Lancelot's face he saw the mixed emotions of relief and confusion and pain.

Lancelot shook his head in confusion. Arthur knew that that had been a wrong move even before he saw Lancelot swallowing against the wave of nausea. He grabbed the bowl next to the bed once more and helped Lancelot turn on his side before he started dry heaving. Since he'd only had a cup of water to drink in the last two days, there was nothing left in his stomach to bring up. Panting and exhausted Lancelot laid back on the bed, his face again ghostly pale. "Gods!"

Arthur gave him a rueful smile. "I told you not to move so much."

Lancelot returned Arthur's smile with a mock glare before he closed his eyes. "Tell me what happened."

"There's not much to tell. You are in the valetudinarium. You were attacked and struck on the head. We found you unconscious, lying in a pool of blood. We don't know who did this to you, although we do know that it was an iron bucket that you were hit with." Arthur watched Lancelot to see how he would respond to this, but when Lancelot didn't open his eyes or spoke up, he added as an afterthought, "I told you all this yesterday also."

At that, Lancelot opened his eyes again slowly. "How long ago since the attack then? I don't remember. I don't remember it happening. And I don't remember you telling me before…" A long sigh escaped from his lips.

"Two days. You've woken up three times before."

"When can I leave here?"

The unexpected question took Arthur by surprise. "What?" It took him a few seconds to form a coherent reply. "You can't get up, Lancelot. Don't you understand? You lost a lot of blood, and you took a very nasty blow to your head! You **have** to stay in bed for awhile."

"I'd much prefer my own bed."

The argument ended before it started as Arthur's answer was cut off when Lancelot yawned and his eyes slowly started to close. Sleep overtook the knight immediately as he felt too weak to fight it off.

Arthur sat down on the chair next to the bed again, allowing his fear and worry for Lancelot to run free now that his friend was asleep.


	4. Part Four

It was only an hour later that Dagonet came into the room with a serious look on his face. He remained in the door opening, while allowing his eyes to get used to the darkness. His gaze lingered shortly on Lancelot, before he turned to Arthur. "Arthur. No change?"

With a slight hesitation Arthur answered. "No…"

Dagonet seemed to be too preoccupied to notice Arthur's rather noncommittal answer.

Arthur threw him a quizzical glance.

"We need you to come to the main hall," said Dagonet in an urgent voice. "There are some things you need to know."

Arthur looked at the figure of the sleeping knight, but before he could say anything, Dagonet continued. "I've asked the healer's apprentice to stay with Lancelot. I've told him where we are."

Well aware of the urgency with which Dagonet was speaking, he stood up and left the room behind the huge knight. From the corners of his eyesight he saw how one of the healer's assistants slipped into Lancelot's room and shut the door.

All of his knights were seated at the round table when Arthur entered together with Dagonet. The serious look on Dagonet's face was mirrored on all of their faces.

Arthur remained standing next to the chair he normally occupied. His gaze was drawn to the middle of the room where Lancelot had been lying like dead just two days before. No evidence remained as the floor had been cleaned spotless. A shiver went down Arthur's spine nonetheless.

"Speak." Arthur ordered, feeling the tension in the air.

"We have been talking a lot about who could have attacked Lancelot and why, and we found that there were a couple of other questions we couldn't find the answers to," began Gawain his explanation. "For one, when Jols came to warn me and Galahad that you wanted us gathered here, he asked whether we knew where Lancelot was. He hadn't told him yet that there was to be a meeting at the round table."

Arthur nodded for him to continue.

"So why was Lancelot in the main hall then?"

Arthur nodded again, his eyebrows risen in surprise, a pensive look crossing his features.

"Tristan then suggested that Lancelot might not have been attacked in here, but somewhere else. Which would mean that he was brought here after he was struck unconscious…" Gawain left the underlying question hanging in the air.

Galahad took over. "We figured that the place where he **was** attacked couldn't be far from here, because someone dragging a bleeding and unconscious knight somewhere should look quite suspicious." Galahad looked at Arthur, who nodded once more. "That's when I remembered the small alcove in the hallway behind this room." Galahad gestured with his left hand in the direction where a small corridor ran directly from the main hall to the stables. "Lancelot once showed it to me. It's a good place to make out with…" Galahad blushed slightly. "Anyway, that's indeed where Lancelot was attacked!"

"How do you know?" Arthur asked sharply.

Gawain stood up from his chair. "We think you better see for yourself."

Puzzled, Arthur followed his knights through the small passage. They stopped before the alcove to allow Arthur to enter. Tristan was already in there with a torch so Arthur could see what the others had seen before.

"Heavenly Father…" Arthur was shocked to find a huge pool of dried blood visible on the floor. It was at least twice the amount of blood that had circled Lancelot's head when he had been found in the main hall.

In silence they all walked back to the main hall and sat down at the round table once more. Arthur sat down this time also. He didn't say anything for awhile, trying to deal with what he had just seen and heard, so many thoughts milling about in his mind.

"Arthur?" The knights were becoming uneasy with Arthur's silence.

Arthur looked up at Gawain who had spoken. Gawain couldn't read his commander's face, but he could sense that something was wrong. Arthur seemed distracted.

"Has something else happened?" he asked tentatively.

"Aye…" Arthur looked all of his knights in their eyes. "Lancelot woke up again a short while ago…"

"That's good, isn't it?" Bors asked confused, looking around the circle of fellow knights and seeing the same confusion on their faces.

"Yes, it is. He remembered nothing of the attack."

The knights were only more confused now. "We knew that already, didn't we?" Gawain commented.

"And he remembered nothing of our conversation yesterday."

The brief silence was quickly broken by various curses from all around the table.

"Damn it! We have to find whoever did this to our Lance!" Bors jumped up, his fist thumping the table in anger.

"Aye!" came the response from his friends.

"And when I get him in my hands, he'll regret ever laying a finger on Lancelot! I'll throttle him so slowly that he begs me to kill him fast!"

"Bors! Enough." Arthur stood up straight. "We need to find out more. Any ideas?" He turned around to Jols who had been standing in the door opening since they had returned from the alcove. "Jols, go to the valetudinarium, and let the healer know that Lancelot lost a lot more blood than we thought at first. Maybe it explains why he's doing so poorly…"

Arthur turned his attention back to his men. "Anyone?"

"Well, Lancelot must have been waiting for some girl. Why else would he have been in the alcove? Maybe we can find her, and find out whether she has seen anything?" Galahad offered.

"Good idea." Arthur glanced over at Bors, who had sat back down again. "Bors, ask Vanora if she has any idea who Lancelot was meeting. She's usually well aware of these things."

Arthur heard how his scout cleared his throat and turned his attention to Tristan.

"Lancelot was obviously carried here from the alcove. If he had been dragged there would have been traces. Considering the amount of blood in the alcove, and the amount of blood Lancelot lost while lying here, he must have lost even more while being carried. Which means that the clothes of his attacker must have been stained with blood. We can ask around if anyone saw someone with bloodstained clothes. Or we can try to find the clothes. I know it's a long shot, but it's not like we have much else to go on right now."

Arthur nodded once again. His scout had a sharp eye for detail. If anyone could find the clothes, he could. Like he had found the water bucket.

"One more thing before we leave," Arthur said while holding up his hand to stop his knights from leaving. "Lancelot wants to return to his own room."

Surprised faces stared at him. "Isn't he better off at the valetudinarium?" "Is he well enough for that?" "He looks much too pale!" Comments and questions bombarded the Roman.

Arthur held up his hand once more to stop the questions. "I don't think it's wise either, but knowing Lancelot he won't let up until he's back in his room. I don't want him agitated over anything, so if the healer gives his okay, I won't fight it. And maybe he's better off in familiar surroundings, maybe it will allow him to sleep more peacefully. Can someone of you go to his room and light the fire?"

"I'll do it," Gawain offered.

"Thank you." Arthur said gratefully before he left the hall in a hurry.

–– 8 ––

Arthur was starting to wonder if Lancelot would wake up again at all this day. Vanora had come by to bring him his supper, but that seemed hours ago already. He had talked with the healer briefly also. The healer had stressed that it was important for Lancelot to get some food and water inside of him to stop his strength from waning any further. Arthur sighed. He had been sighing a lot the past days. It seemed Lancelot was trapped in a kind of vicious circle. Where the blood loss had drained his strength and was keeping him asleep so much, the concussion was making it nearly impossible for the Sarmatian knight to keep any food or drink in his stomach, the one thing he needed most to get stronger again.

"You worry too much."

The weak voice held something of the normal Lancelot, and when Arthur looked up, he saw a slight smirk on the pale face of his friend. He also noticed how the bruises on his face were starting to show all colours of the rainbow.

"You give me enough reason to worry so much," Arthur retorted.

Lancelot flinched slightly at the words, both because of the content as well as the way the words made his head pound stronger.

Arthur walked over the bed and sat down on it. "How are you feeling?"

"As bad as I look if your face is any indication."

Arthur shook his head in amusement. Always and everywhere Lancelot had his way with words. Arthur realized that the unfamiliar stillness was what was most unsettling about watching his friend lie in bed all day – Lancelot was rarely silent, never still. "The healer says you should eat something. Do you think you could drink some broth? It's good. Vanora made it."

"No.. No…." He swallowed against the nauseous feeling that was rising from his stomach.

Arthur knew how Lancelot was feeling, but he also knew he had to press on. "You might actually feel better. You need to get your strength back up."

"My head hurts." Weariness was already becoming apparent in Lancelot's eyes once more.

"Just a few sips," Arthur urged. Afraid that the knight was going to fall asleep on him again, he offered what he knew Lancelot wanted most of all at the moment. "If you drink some of the broth, I promise to transfer you to your own bed."

"Today?" Lancelot's eyelids quivered and stopped when they had fallen halfway down.

"Today." Arthur pledged solemnly.

Lancelot struggled to sit up, but didn't get very far. Arthur had already moved towards him. "Let me help you!" Wrapping his arms around Lancelot, he gently pulled him forward, supporting his neck with one hand. Mindful of what had happened the previous day, he held Lancelot until he could feel him straightening a bit by himself. When he could look into the knight's face, he saw that he had his eyes closed. "Are you feeling dizzy?"

"Yes," Lancelot spoke drawlingly. Slowly his eyes fluttered open again. Arthur was almost starting to regret that he had pressured Lancelot into drinking something when he saw the bewilderment and pain in the brown eyes.

Arthur waited patiently while Lancelot tried to calm his shaking body by taking deliberate deep breaths. It took a few minutes before Lancelot looked Arthur in his eyes. "Okay."

Cautiously, Arthur released his support to Lancelot's back with one hand and reached out for the bowl with broth. He placed it at Lancelot's lips, not trusting the other man to be able to hold on to the bowl with trembling hands. After a first tentative sip, the Sarmatian drank more eagerly, draining the bowl completely. The still lukewarm liquid was soothing to his dry throat.

Pleased that Lancelot had drank all of the broth, but wary of any signs of nausea, Arthur placed the bowl behind him on the bed. He turned around just in time to see Lancelot's eyes closing once more. "Lancelot?"

"I'm awake." Lancelot's voice betrayed that he was close to sleep nonetheless.

Arthur watched worriedly how Lancelot was slumping forward in his arms. "I'm going to lie you back down now. Are you ready?"

A heavy sigh escaped from Lancelot when he lay back onto the bed again. He opened his eyes briefly. "Don't forget your promise…" He was asleep the moment the last vowel left his lips.

Arthur sighed yet again. "Stubborn…" he mumbled while standing up from the bed. He grabbed the empty bowl, and placed it on the small table. Then he turned back to the bed, and arranged the two heavy fur blankets in such a way that Lancelot would stay warm when he lifted him to carry him to his room.

Bracing himself, Arthur brought his arms underneath Lancelot's body. As gently as possible, he pulled the sleeping knight to his chest. Lancelot's head settled on his shoulder. Slowly he began the walk to the building where the knights' quarters were. Arthur took extreme care to not jostle Lancelot's head too much, cradling the limp body close.

Gawain, Galahad and Dagonet had obviously been waiting for them, and approached immediately. "Sweet Goddess…" In the light of the many torches of the hallway the extent of the bruising on Lancelot's face became visible, as did the ghostly pallor of his skin. The blood red stained bandage mismatched nicely with both.

Galahad opened the door to Lancelot's room and stepped aside to let Arthur through. "Is he alright?" he asked doubtfully.

Arthur didn't answer until he had placed the curly haired man on his own bed. He continued to look at Lancelot while he shook his head. "I don't know. He drank some broth, that's good, but other than that…"

Looking around the room, Arthur noticed the makeshift bed next to Lancelot's. "Thank you."

"We didn't think you would want to leave him alone just yet. And it might be kinder on your back than spending another night sleeping in a chair," Gawain smiled.

"Amen to that!" Arthur chuckled quietly.


	5. Part Five

Galahad hurried towards the tavern where he knew he would find his fellow knights. Vanora was serving breakfast, and looked up when she saw Galahad coming in. He answered her questioning look with a nod. "I found the girl," he said while sitting down at the table next to Bors.

All faces turned in expectation towards him. "Well?" Gawain urged.

"It was Rowan then?" Vanora asked.

Galahad nodded again. "Yes, you were right."

"Who's Rowan?" Bors asked while biting a piece off of his bread.

"More importantly, did she know anything?" Gawain interfered.

"If you'd let me speak, you'd know already!" Galahad said annoyed. He grabbed a piece of bread before he continued.

"Rowan is the new girl working at the dressmakers. Long wavy brown hair. An eye catcher," Galahad said appreciative. He pointed to the bowl with honey, which Dagonet passed to him.

"And…?"

Galahad glared at the bald man sitting next to him but ignored him further. "She was indeed going to meet Lancelot in the alcove, but she heard screaming and didn't dare to go into the passage. She waited outside hoping that Lancelot hadn't arrived yet. But he obviously already had, so she never saw him. She left when she heard the commotion in the main hall."

"Did she see anyone else?" Dagonet asked the question on everyone's lips.

Galahad nodded. "She said a man came through the passage after she'd been waiting there for some time. She didn't know who it was. In fact, she doesn't know anyone in the fort yet. The only thing she could say about the man is that he is taller than me, and he wore a red cloak."

Mouths all around the table dropped open in surprise. "A Roman?" Gawain's voice was laced with anger.

"Galahad. Why didn't this girl tell anyone?" Dagonet asked.

Galahad shrugged. "I think she didn't know who to tell. She'd only been here for two days when Lancelot was attacked. She was scared of me at first when I talked with her. I think our reputation of fearsome knights had preceded us," Galahad grinned. Laughter erupted around the table.

"And leave it to our Lance to know everything that is going on and woo her before anyone else even knew of her existence!" Bors added.

"Someone has to tell Arthur."

Silence descended over the table at Gawain's words.

–– 8 ––

Arthur heard the footsteps echoing through the hallway that stopped before Lancelot's door. It seemed that the person on the other side had paused. Watching the door, Arthur's hand went to the hilt of the small dagger at his side. He stood swiftly and rounded the table he had been sitting at.

Then the door swung open and Galahad entered. For a moment the young knight stared at his commander.

"Don't do that!" Arthur dropped his hand from his side.

Galahad looked at him bewildered. "Do what?"

"Never mind." Arthur rubbed his neck to calm down a bit.

"Is everything alright?" Galahad immediately looked over to the bed, where Lancelot seemed to be peacefully asleep.

Arthur moved near the bed. Looking down at Lancelot, he answered uneasily. "He hasn't awoken once since we brought him here, and it's past midday already." With a heavy sigh and heavy heart he sat down on the chair that was positioned next to the bed on Lancelot's left side.

Galahad stood at the end of the bed. "The healer did say to be patient, didn't he?" he said trying to sound reassuring.

"Yes…" Arthur answered, doubt obvious in his voice.

Galahad kept his eyes trained on Lancelot. "Arthur, can you leave him alone here for awhile?"

Arthur's green eyes shot up to look at Galahad. "Why?"

"The others are waiting in the main hall. There are some things that we found out, that you should know. And you won't like it."

Arthur didn't miss the urgency behind the statement, but his unease over leaving Lancelot preceded. "We'll have to get someone first to stay with Lancelot! Vanora, maybe?"

"Bring them in here."

The weak voice that came from the bed startled both other men.

"Lancelot!" Galahad stood transfixed, not sure how much the pale knight might have heard.

Arthur sat down on the bed. "It's good to see you awake again. How do you feel?" Arthur placed his hand gently on Lancelot's arm.

Lancelot ignored Arthur's question. "If you know anything about who assaulted me, then I want to know too." He studied Galahad with dark eyes.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Lancelot."

Lancelot turned his attention to Arthur. He tried to ignore the pain that shot through his head while he moved it slightly to look at his commander. It didn't escape Arthur when he winced in agony.

"I think I have a right to know. It's my life that was almost taken." Lancelot tried to answer forcefully, but he couldn't muster up the strength. Already he could feel how his whole body was shaking with exhaustion.

"You need to rest! Please, Lancelot…" Arthur softened his voice, knowing that arguing with his second in command wouldn't help the situation. "We don't want to loose you now." Suddenly he became aware of the tremors coursing through the arm beneath his hand. "By God, you're trembling like a newborn deer!"

"So your answer is no?" Sweat was starting to pearl on Lancelot's face, the dark circles around his eyes seeming to darken further.

"Yes, my answer is no." Arthur stated, surprised how soon Lancelot had given in.

"Fine, I'll come to the main hall then." Before Arthur could react, Lancelot pushed himself upright.

Arthur was in time though to catch his knight before he could fall from the bed as he swayed and passed out nearly immediately.

"Damn you and your stubbornness!" Arthur muttered under his breath.

Lancelot had collapsed against Arthur in an awkward position and the Roman gratefully accepted Galahad's help in lifting the limp body back on to the bed.

"Shall I get the healer?" Galahad asked while helping Arthur to pull the warm fur blankets back over Lancelot's still body.

Arthur nodded tiredly. "And Galahad, would you also gather the others and bring them here?"

Galahad looked at Arthur stunned.

"I don't want to risk Lancelot waking up and attempting to follow us while we're in the main hall," Arthur explained. "Go now!"

–– 8 ––

Unusually quietly the knights entered Lancelot's room one by one. Galahad had described in vivid detail what had occurred only shortly before, leaving all of them apprehensive of what to expect.

Arthur remained sitting next to the bed, while the other men found a place to sit or stand. Galahad and Gawain sat down on Arthur's makeshift bed, while Bors brought the chair that had been standing behind the small table closer to the bed. Dagonet stood leaning against the door, while Tristan was standing at the end of the bed close to Arthur. The room was overcrowded with all of them in it.

Without speaking, Tristan handed Arthur a folded red cloak, like all Roman soldiers in the fort were wearing.

A frown creased Arthur's face, while looking at the item he was holding in his hand. "Explain," he ordered Tristan while looking up at him.

"Take a closer look," was all the explanation that Tristan offered.

Unfolding the cloak, Arthur could feel how something was keeping parts of the cloak together, although it took only little strength to separate them. It hit Arthur immediately what the sticky stuff might be. "Blood." Lancelot's blood. "Dear God." In the darkened room the long streaks of blood on the red fabric were almost inconspicuous. Arthur took a moment to take in the implications of the find.

"Where did you find it?" Arthur looked questioningly at Tristan.

Tristan nodded at Galahad, who repeated to Arthur the story of his meeting with Rowan as he had told his fellow knights earlier that day. Arthur listened intently.

When Galahad had finished, Tristan took over again. "The best way to hide something is to leave it out in the open for everyone to see, without turning attention to it. So I asked myself where a Roman cloak would go unnoticed, and would also be left untouched for quite awhile."

A pensive Arthur nodded briefly. "And you found it…"

"Yes. In the supply warehouse. It was on the bottom of a stack of cloaks. It might have gone unnoticed for months."

"Well done." Arthur's face remained dark.

A movement from the bed brought his attention immediately to the wounded Sarmatian. Lancelot's eyes were open. "A Roman then?" His voice sounded weak but firm.

All eyes turned to Lancelot as he spoke.

It took Arthur a moment to recover. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough."

Arthur closed his eyes for a second to calm his thoughts. He didn't want Lancelot upset, but he didn't know what would accomplish that best – refusing to share any information with him, or share all with him. Either way Lancelot would end up distressed. "How are you feeling?" he asked trying to stall.

"I'll live," Lancelot answered tersely.

Before Arthur could reply, Gawain did. "Lancelot?" He waited until he knew he had the knight's attention. "We've all been very worried about you the past couple of days…" He didn't have to say more to convey to Lancelot what he meant. Lancelot would have been just as protective of any of the others had they been in his situation.

"Sorry…" It was like a mask had fallen from Lancelot's face, and the fatigue and pain were suddenly plain to see for the others.

"Don't worry about it." Arthur placed his hand reassuringly on Lancelot's arm. "Now, truthfully, how do you feel?"

Lancelot considered that before he answered. "In pain, drained, sick. That's about it." For a brief moment, the familiar smirk returned to his face. It fell again quickly, leaving him looking pale and drawn. "Thirsty..."

"Do you want some more broth? It's cold, but it's wet…" Arthur propositioned.

"Please."

With Gawain's help, Arthur sat Lancelot up slightly and held the cup to his lips while the Sarmatian drank slowly. When they laid him back down, it was obvious to Arthur that Lancelot was glad not to be sitting up anymore. For a moment he expected Lancelot to drift off to sleep once more as his eyes slipped close, but he managed to open them again only a few seconds later.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked softly.

Lancelot nodded silently.

"Back to finding out then who is responsible for your injuries." Arthur straightened in his chair, and looked at his other knights, who had remained silent since Lancelot had spoken up. "The cloak doesn't tell us who attacked Lancelot…"

"A Roman. That we know." Galahad responded.

"Not necessarily," Arthur answered. "In fact, it could have been anyone. Anyone could have gone in and out of the warehouse and steal a cloak…"

"True." Tristan sounded doubtful. "But then again that would indicate that someone planned to attack Lancelot. I don't think that's what happened. If I were to hit on someone and get away with it unnoticed, I would seek an isolated place. And the place where Lancelot was assaulted is far from isolated. Very close to the stables, very close to the main hall. Too many people around at all times."

Several nods all around the room indicated that Tristan's theory was likely.

"And if it wasn't premeditated, then the cloak indicates that it probably **was** a Roman soldier…" Arthur added thoughtfully. "Which still leaves many possibilities!" The commander's frustration was obvious.

"We could try to lure him out in the open. Bait him," Tristan suggested.

"A trap?" Arthur nodded in agreement. "But how?"

"He tried to kill me before. Maybe we can get him to try again." Lancelot's voice was even weaker than before, but his words were met with a shocked silence.

Suddenly everyone seemed to start to talk at the same time, voicing their concerns, raising objections. Only Arthur and Tristan remained silent.

Lancelot winced in pain as the voices danced inside of his head. He brought his hands to his face and squeezed his eyes close in an attempt to shut out the noise.

"Knights!" Arthur tried not to raise his voice in commiseration of Lancelot, but he had to get their attention.

The noise died down quickly.

Lancelot's eyes remained close. "Lancelot?" Arthur asked softly but urgently.

Lancelot could feel Arthur's gaze on him. He dropped his arms to the bed, and slowly opened his eyes. His eyes were burning with fatigue. He swallowed heavily to get rid of the bile that had risen in his throat.

"Lancelot?" Arthur eyed him warily.

"I'm okay," Lancelot answered quietly. A tremor shook his body, leaving him feeling cold. "Really," he added when he saw Arthur's doubtful face.

Arthur turned his attention back to his other knights. Gawain was the first to speak. "Lancelot's right, Arthur. If we are going to set a trap, it will only work with Lancelot as the bait."

"I agree," Tristan added.

"It's too dangerous," Arthur objected. His face betrayed his fear for his friend. "He can't defend himself."

"Two of us will guard him at all times, Arthur. He won't come to anymore harm!" Gawain knew how his commander was feeling. He shared the same concerns. They all did.

"No! We almost lost him already…"

"Don't you trust your knights to keep me safe, commander?" Lancelot spoke almost inaudibly, too tired to speak up.

Arthur stared at Lancelot. "Point taken." He trusted all of his knights blindly as they did him, and they all knew it. He also knew Lancelot was right, which didn't mean that he had to like it. "Right. So how do we entice the assailant to go after Lancelot once more? Any suggestions?"

"We could spread around that Lancelot remembers what his attacker looked like," Galahad offered. Encouraged by the nods around him, he continued. "Let everyone know that he suspects one of the Roman soldiers, that he didn't recognize him, but that he's sure he will when he sees him again."

Arthur nodded slowly. "That should work. Bors, can we expect Vanora to help spread the rumor? Gossip seems to travel fastest when lots of wine and ale are involved…"

"Aye!" Bors grinned. "I'll tell her tonight!"

"Arthur," Tristan sounded hesitantly. "You will have to leave Lancelot's room. He won't attempt anything while you're there."

"If we let everyone know that you're going to talk to the centurion, that will increase the threat to the assailant, and gets you out of Lancelot's room at the same time without raising suspicion," Gawain added before Arthur could oppose.

"Knights, I think it's time for everyone to leave," Arthur interrupted. "We'll talk about this tomorrow."

One glance at the bed told the other men why Arthur had so suddenly ended the meeting. Lancelot had his eyes closed, his dark curls matted to his pale face that was drenched in sweat.

Quietly and silent the knights left the room. Galahad cast a worried glance at Lancelot before he shut the door behind him.

Arthur knelt down next to the bed. He had been keeping an eye on his friend all through the discussions, and he realized that Lancelot was worsening when a distant look had appeared in the dark eyes. Not much later he had seen his eyes close. Using a wet cloth, he wiped the sweat from Lancelot's brow. Hoping that the coolness would give the Sarmatian some relief from the pain, he left the cloth in place.

"Lancelot? What can I do to help?"

Arthur almost missed the minute shake of Lancelot's head, who kept his eyes closed tightly. Sitting back on the chair, he watched until he knew that the curly haired knight had succumbed to sleep, leaving Arthur alone with his troubled thoughts.

–– 8 ––

Bors and Galahad had been playing dice in the tavern only briefly, when they were approached for the first time to confirm that Lancelot was getting better and had regained his memories of the attack. Reluctantly they admitted, grinning madly at each other as soon as the man left. Vanora had immediately agreed to help to start the rumors, also knowing exactly who to tell first.

When Dagonet and Tristan joined them, they too had already been questioned by several visitors of the tavern. Galahad had determined earlier already that several Romans, from officers to legionaries, were present. After a couple of hours it was clear that the news about Lancelot was the talk of the day at many a table, as had his assault been only a few days before.

Gawain was nowhere to be seen. He had told Galahad earlier that he was staying in his quarters, which were right next to Lancelot's. He knew that their commander was quite capable of watching out for Lancelot, but he had promised Arthur that two of them would guard Lancelot at all times, and he was not going to break that promise.


	6. Part Six

Sleep had eluded Arthur. He had tried to sleep on the makeshift bed next to Lancelot's, but his thoughts wouldn't quiet down. Knowing his body needed the rest, he had remained lying down, while considering the plan he and his knights had already set in motion. The plan seemed solid, but Arthur was aware that many things could go wrong.

Another troubled moan from Lancelot stirred him from his thoughts.

The first hours after the meeting, Lancelot had slept like the dead, but as the night had fallen, he had become restless. He had never awoken though, and Arthur had decided not to wake him, as he obviously needed the sleep. Especially considering the day that lay ahead, Arthur thought. He didn't doubt that a second attempt on Lancelot's life would come soon.

A knock on the door brought Arthur to his feet immediately. Gawain and Galahad entered, carrying trays of food. Arthur accepted gratefully.

"How is he?" Gawain asked, looking at Lancelot who seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

"He sleeps fitfully, but he hasn't awoken," Arthur answered, sounding doubtful whether that was a good thing or not. Placing his plate on the table, he sat down. "How did it go last night?" he asked curiously.

"The whole fort should know by now that Lancelot remembers the face of his attacker." Galahad snickered. "Vanora was terrific!"

"Dagonet and I will be in our rooms keeping watch as soon as you leave on your way to the centurion," Gawain elaborated on the plans the knights had made last night. "Bors and Galahad will be outside, watching everyone who enters here."

"What about Tristan?" Arthur asked.

"He will be around," Gawain added. "To make sure that no one comes in here unnoticed."

Arthur nodded approvingly. "We'll have to wait until Lancelot's awake. That could be soon, but also take a long time…"

"I think it will be soon." Galahad moved to the side of the bed.

Arthur followed Galahad's gaze and saw how Lancelot's eyelids fluttered. Soon his eyes opened. Arthur swiftly moved to stand next to Galahad. Kneeling down he watched Lancelot closely.

"Lancelot?"

"Arthur?"

"Right here." For a moment it seemed as though Lancelot was looking straight through his commander, but then the brown eyes focused. "How do you feel?"

"Like I slept for a week, and wouldn't mind sleeping for another month." Lines of weariness etched his face, the dark circles under his eyes prominent. The healing bruises only added to the picture of exhaustion.

"Do you want some water?" Not waiting for the answer, Arthur reached for the cup of water that he had left on the floor.

Lancelot nodded. With Galahad's assistance, Arthur helped his knight drink. Lancelot was grateful when they laid him back down again, feeling his eyes slid close again.

"Lancelot!" Arthur gently squeezed the Sarmatian's arm. "Lancelot, you can't go to sleep right now."

Lancelot looked up at him with somnolent eyes. "I'm not asleep."

"You need to stay awake for awhile," Arthur urged. "Can you do that?"

Lancelot nodded. Arthur wasn't so certain. A feeling of foreboding crept over him.

Turning his attention to Gawain, Arthur asked, "Is Dagonet on guard already?" Gawain confirmed. "Then it's best that you go also. Galahad, you're coming with me," the Roman ordered, before he turned his attention back to Lancelot once more. "Shout out if you need anything. Anything! Gawain and Dagonet are in the next rooms, they'll hear you. Try to stay awake," he added softly.

Lancelot watched as Arthur and Galahad left his room behind Gawain. He knew he had to stay awake, but he just felt too tired to keep his eyes open. They closed involuntarily.

Lancelot didn't know how long he had been dozing off and on when he heard the door to his room opening softly. "Arthur?" he asked weakly.

–– 8 ––

Gawain had only just sat down when he heard the distinctive creaking of Lancelot's door, bringing him to his feet again immediately. Even before he could bring his hand to his sword, Lancelot's scream reached him.

Running out of his room, he saw Dagonet coming out of his, and a large figure standing in Lancelot's door opening.

The man turned his head around upon hearing the running footsteps, while at the same time drawing his arm back, clasping a knife. Turning back his attention to the man on the bed in the room, he threw the knife with force, just before Gawain reached him. In one motion, the man brought his arm back again and hit the blond knight full on his jaw.

Gawain stumbled backwards, momentarily stunned. Before he could recover, he suddenly saw how the man's mouth opened in surprise like he was about to scream. As the man collapsed to his knees, Gawain saw how Dagonet drew out the large blade that he had slid into the man's side.

–– 8 ––

Arthur had hardly left the building that housed the quarters of the knights together with Galahad when he clearly heard Lancelot's scream, turning his blood cold.

Arthur ran back as fast as he could, Galahad on his heels. When he entered the hallway to the knights' rooms, he saw Tristan running in front of him. Tristan almost ran into Gawain who was swaying on his legs. Next he saw his scout jumping over a body that was almost completely blocking the opening to Lancelot's room. Arthur registered that Dagonet was standing over the man with a large knife in his hand, as he jumped over the body himself, focusing only on getting to Lancelot as fast as he could. Images of a dead Lancelot were flashing through his mind.

Arthur's eyes immediately went to the bed, and another shock went through his system. The bed was empty, safe for a huge throwing knife that was embedded deadcenter of the bed in the blankets. "Oh God, please, no…"

Then Arthur became aware of Tristan who was kneeling over another body lying on the floor next to the bed. "Lancelot!"

Relief flooded his veins as the faint reply reached him. "Arthur…"

Stepping around Tristan, Arthur quickly knelt down next to Lancelot, who was lying on the floor curled up in himself, partly entangled in one of the fur blankets. He was paler than ever, the ghostly translucent skin of his face coated with sweat. The dark eyes shone with confusion and fear and pain. Blood was seeping out from under the bandage on his temple.

"Lancelot…"

This time Lancelot didn't respond. Arthur realized that the Sarmatian knight was nearly unconscious. Uncertain if Lancelot had sustained any further injuries, he looked at Tristan.

Sensing his commander's question, Tristan quietly answered. "It looks like he rolled out of bed instinctively. There are no other wounds. But it wouldn't surprise me if his head injury is aggravated."

"Thank God he's alive." Arthur breathed out shakily. "Has he said anything?"

Tristan shook his head. "No. I thought at first that he was unconscious, but he opened his eyes when he heard you call out to him. I don't think we should move him before the healer has taken a look at him."

Nodding in agreement, Arthur turned back to Lancelot. He placed his hand on the trembling arm of his knight. "Lancelot? Can you hear me?"

After a brief moment, Lancelot's gaze met Arthur's. Suddenly his eyes rolled to the back of his head and Arthur felt the body go limp under his hand. The Roman commander cursed.

Arthur became aware of his other knights who were standing behind him and Tristan, watching Lancelot intently. "Galahad, go fetch the healer!" he ordered. "Bors, can you find something to cover him up, to keep him warm?" Searching out Gawain, Arthur asked, "Are you alright?"

Gawain rubbed his hand over his jaw which was already starting to discolour. "I'm fine. Just a bruise. How's Lancelot?"

"Let's wait for the healer to hear that." Arthur answered worriedly.

Bors entered the room with a warm blanket in his hands. He passed it to Gawain, who passed it to Arthur over Tristan's head. Carefully, Arthur spread it over Lancelot's body.

The healer did not take long to arrive, and immediately bent down to examine Lancelot. After a few minutes, he spoke up. "He's going to wake up with a headache even worse than before, but other than that he should heal with lots of rest. I want to keep him in bed for at least another week. Not that I think he'll feel like getting up anyway, since he's still recovering from the blood loss also."

"Thank you," Arthur acknowledged the healer. "Can we lift him onto his bed then?"

"Yes, of course. Just don't forget to remove that knife first," the healer chuckled.

Dagonet stepped forward and pulled the knife out of the bed. Everyone fell silent on the sight of the long blade that became visible. Lancelot escaped certain death by rolling out of the bed on instinct.

Arthur moved forward to gather up Lancelot. He placed his arms as gently as possible under Lancelot's frame and lifted him easily. "Tristan, can you disentangle all of the blankets?" As soon as Tristan had managed to do so, Arthur carefully lowered Lancelot on to the bed. Galahad had moved to the other side of the bed, and together with Arthur, he arranged the blankets over the unconscious man again.

Arthur sat down with a heavy sigh. His voice was tense when he spoke. "Dagonet, is Tracius dead?"

Dagonet looked at his commander baffled. "Who?"

Arthur pointed to the hallway. "Him."

"You know him?" Galahad asked surprised.

Arthur nodded. "Tracius is a decurion under centurion Livius. Now, is he dead?"

"No, he's not." Dagonet answered calmly. "What do you want us to do with him?"

"Take him to the valetudinarium. Alert the guards. I'll talk to him later."

Dagonet nodded in compliance, and moved towards the door to do as Arthur instructed.

Bors couldn't contain his anger. "That's it? The bastard's tried to kill our Lancelot twice, and all you want to do is **talk** with him?"

"Bors…" Arthur said in a soothing voice. "I understand, believe me, I do! And he **will** get his punishment! What I mean is that I want to know **why** he went after Lancelot."

"Give me two minutes with him, and we'll know everything we want to know! And then we can run him through with a sword ever so slowly…" Bors went on, while he went after Dagonet to help him deliver the Roman at the healer's ward.

Arthur looked at Gawain with an almost pleading look. Knowingly, Gawain moved to the door to follow Bors and Dagonet. "Come on, Galahad."

Tristan left last, without speaking, leaving Arthur alone to watch over Lancelot.


	7. Part Seven

The hours that Arthur had spent at Lancelot's bed side seemed to stretch longer and longer. Where Lancelot had been sleeping restlessly all throughout the last four days, this time he had not stirred once, not released one sound of pain or distress, since he had lost consciousness after Tracius' second attack. More than a day Arthur had already been waiting for his second in command to awaken again. All of the knights had at one time or another stepped by, to inform after Lancelot, to pass on news on Tracius, to bring food to Arthur or to just sit with their comrades. But it did nothing to shorten the wait until the Sarmatian knight would wake up again. Arthur had sent for the healer several times, but every time the man insured him that he would just have to wait and be patient.

The sun had long risen when Arthur finally heard a soft groan from the bed. He immediately sat down next to it.

Lancelot seemed to be struggling to come awake. Arthur could see how his eyes were moving under his eyelids. His brow was furrowed with pain. Slowly his eyes started to slide open partly, before they closed again, his eyes rolling in their sockets. Only at his fourth attempt did Lancelot manage to open his eyes completely.

"Lancelot, can you hear me?" Arthur asked in a whisper.

His question was answered with another moan that seemed to escape involuntarily from Lancelot's lips.

"Lancelot?"

Slowly Lancelot turned his head toward Arthur, and their eyes met.

"Arthur…" Lancelot sounded like he was still asleep.

"Are you actually awake?" Arthur asked with a smile in his voice.

Lancelot blinked twice before he answered. "I think so."

"How's your head?"

Arthur could see how that question triggered all of Lancelot's memories to rush back to him. A look of agony and fear passed over his face. A shudder went through his body. Lancelot closed his eyes deliberately, and breathed in deeply several times. When he opened his eyes once more the haziness had lifted from them, and was replaced by pain and fatigue and also a hint of anger.

"Is he dead?" Lancelot said, not answering Arthur's question. Despite the weakness, Arthur could detect the hint of anger in his voice as well.

"No."

"Who is he?" More anger in Lancelot's voice now.

"A decurion named Tracius," Arthur answered uncertainly. "Lancelot, it can wait. You…"

"Arthur!" Lancelot said in a soft but demanding tone.

"Please, Lancelot, calm down!" Arthur tried to soothe the knight. "You are going…"

"Why, Arthur? Why? Tell me!"

Lancelot wasn't listening. His voice was becoming more distressed with each question. Arthur realized that he had to stop it before Lancelot was hurt even more.

"No. Lancelot, listen to me." Arthur placed his hand on the dark man's chest hoping to calm him down. "You're not well enough to hear this. For God's sake, you were sleeping for more than a day! We've been worried out of our minds for you! Get stronger first, and then we can talk!"

Lancelot glared at his commander with dark eyes filled with anguish. "Damn you!" He winced at his own voice.

Arthur saw how Lancelot squeezed his eyes shut, while sucking in his breath, as he was assaulted by the pain in his head.

The door to the room opened, and Arthur saw in the corners of his eyes how Gawain entered.

Lancelot brought his arms up to his face, pushing the palms of his hands into his eyes to block out the pain. He had turned ashen white and was breathing heavily.

"Lancelot?" Arthur had kept his hand on his friend's chest to offer any kind of comfort.

Gawain appeared on the other side of the bed, watching Lancelot and Arthur with a very worried look on his face. Kneeling down, he whispered, "What happened?"

While not taking his eyes off of Lancelot, Arthur answered, "He wants to know why Tracius tried to kill him. I told him he wasn't well enough."

Lancelot groaned loudly while his arms fell back to the bed as though they had become too heavy to hold up. His eyes were still tightly closed, but his breathing had evened out again.

"Lancelot?" Arthur tried again.

"I need to know, Arthur," Lancelot said pleadingly, without opening his eyes. "Why?"

Arthur sighed. It was a no win situation. He knew that Lancelot would take the reason hard, but not telling him would cause him much distress also. "Try to calm down first. How is your head?"

Lancelot opened his eyes to narrow slits and glared at the Roman. "How do you think?"

Arthur sighed again. Sometimes his Sarmatian friend could be infuriating.

"Sounds to me like his sunny character is returning." Gawain chuckled.

Lancelot started to turn his head towards the direction where Gawain's voice had come from, but the pain quickly halted him. His vision started to gray around the edges. His eyes drooped close slowly.

Arthur was immediately alarmed by the way Lancelot's body went rigid. "Lancelot…? Try to breathe…" He could feel how Lancelot exhaled slowly as his chest moved down under his hand. "Slowly…" He knew Lancelot was listening to him despite his closed eyes as he felt him draw another shuddering breath. In a soothing tone Arthur coaxed Lancelot through several more slow inhalations, until finally he felt his knight's body go limp. Lancelot released a long sigh, before he slowly opened his eyes once more.

Arthur looked at Lancelot for a few moments before speaking. "You need to get well first, Lancelot. You'll hear everything soon enough."

Pain sparkled in Lancelot's eyes as he met Arthur's gaze. "Please. I'll stay calm. I won't move again. I won't do anything you don't want me to do, but just tell me. Please?"

Arthur felt how Lancelot's body was trembling slightly. He knew that the argument was draining all of Lancelot's energy. But knowing Lancelot best of all, he also realized that Lancelot wouldn't let the exhaustion stop him to get the answer he wanted. Not wanting to hurt his friend any further, Arthur gave in with a sigh. He nodded briefly.

"Tracius is a decurion under Livius. I think he arrived only six months ago or so. No one really seems to like him, Livius in the least. To use his words, Tracius is a cocky bastard." Arthur had spoken very briefly with Livius the evening before, when the centurion had come to Lancelot's room to inquire after his condition. He hadn't spoken with Tracius at all, since he hadn't want to leave Lancelot. Arthur had sent Gawain and Galahad to Livius to inform the centurion about his subordinate, and they had been present while Livius and the Roman guard questioned Tracius.

"He comes from a wealthy family and has brought his wife with him to Hadrian's Wall. Her name is Marcella." Arthur paused for a second to see if Lancelot recognized the name. "Do you know her?" he added.

"No," Lancelot answered in a tired voice.

Arthur briefly looked at Gawain, not sure how to continue. "Apparently, she knows of you."

Lancelot looked at him not understanding.

"She seems quite smitten with you. She has been watching you while we were sparring. She comes to the gates when we ride out and she is back again when we return to ascertain herself that you are alright."

Lancelot looked at Arthur bewildered. "But I don't know who she is!"

"I know that. Please, stay calm." Arthur soothingly rubbed his hand over Lancelot's shoulder. He once more looked over at Gawain, and nodded to him to continue.

Gawain took a moment to find the right words. "Marcella told her husband how handsome you look on your dark horse. And how fearless you are." Not a trace of amusement was present in Gawain's voice.

Slowly understanding dawned on Lancelot. "No…" He looked from Arthur to Gawain and back to Arthur. "No!"

"Calm down, please, Lancelot," Arthur tried, knowing exactly the turmoil that now held Lancelot in its grip.

"No!" Lancelot's voice was weak, but the confusion and anger in it was clear. "You can't be telling me that the Roman tried to kill me twice over a woman I don't even know? This is madness! Arthur?"

Arthur nodded sadly. "I couldn't believe what I was hearing either at first…"

"Gawain?" Lancelot turned in denial to the blond Sarmatian.

"I'm sorry, Lancelot. Galahad and I were there when he told centurion Livius why he did it, and he wasn't showing any remorse for it either. He couldn't bear the shame of having his wife in love with another. A Sarmatian knight no less… He spat out your name like he was talking about something inferior, "a slave to Rome" he called all of us. It didn't at all matter that you're unaware of her existence. When he saw you walking from the stable area towards the alcove, he knew you were going to meet a woman there. Something must have snapped in him, because he grabbed Jols' water bucket and went after you." Gawain paused for a moment before continuing. "He thought you were dead. He checked to see if you were still breathing, but he didn't think you were. That's when he picked you up and threw you in the midst of the round table. To make a statement that no Sarmatian would ever get the better of a Roman."

Lancelot just stared at Gawain while he was talking. He felt dulled by what he was hearing.

"Then after that first attack, his wife told him how brave you were to have survived, which angered him even more than before. He had just been waiting for another chance to finish you off, when we offered him the opportunity…" Gawain sighed. Together with Galahad, he had at first listened speechlessly, but soon he had been infuriated at hearing the man's confession. They had told Arthur how Tracius had burst out in rage afterwards, and once again threatened to kill Lancelot at the first chance he would get, but he had no intention of telling that to Lancelot.

Lancelot cursed. "This is madness…" His voice betrayed just how shook up and infuriated he was.

"It is. Are you alright?" Arthur asked worriedly. Lancelot looked completely worn out, and he could feel how the Sarmatian was trembling violently from exhaustion by now.

"No…" Lancelot closed his eyes. "So tired…"

"Get some rest then. We can talk later." Arthur commanded.

Lancelot let the exhaustion claim him, and was asleep within seconds.

Arthur rested his head in his hands.

"He had to be told, Arthur." Gawain had stood up and moved to the chair close to the bed.

The Roman's green eyes remained rested on the bed as he nodded knowingly. "I know. I just wish it could have been later when he would have had the strength to deal with it."


	8. Part Eight

Arthur hurried along the wet streets. The meeting with Livius had taken almost all morning. He knew Lancelot didn't need him by his bedside all day long anymore, and hadn't needed him there for a couple of days, but he liked to check in on his knight from time to time.

Lancelot still spent most of his days asleep, as the healer had predicted, but more often now Arthur would find him awake, staring out of the window from his bed. The head wound and bruises were healing nicely, whereas the headaches were still frequent. But Arthur had noticed with concern that Lancelot was still looking as pale and drawn as before despite all the hours of restful sleep he was getting. He knew that his friend was troubled by the attempts on his life. They had talked about it a couple of times, trying to understand why it had happened, but Arthur realized that something else, something deeper was bothering Lancelot. He just didn't know what.

Walking through the corridor that lead to the knights' quarters, Arthur only slowed down when he reached the door to his own quarters. He quickly brought the papers he was carrying inside, before he went on to Lancelot's room a few doors further. Cautiously he opened the door, not wanting to disturb Lancelot were he asleep.

Arthur's eyes widened in surprise when he found the bed empty. Swiftly he stepped into the room. "Lancelot?" he called out softly, his eyes drifting over the room. It was empty. Immediately he set off in the direction of the tavern, this time running full out.

Galahad and Dagonet were the first who saw Arthur running toward the tavern. They went over to the table where Gawain and Bors were sitting, alerting them to the arrival of their commander. Arthur ran up to their table before halting to a stop.

"Arthur! Is something wrong?" Dagonet asked before Arthur could speak.

"Knights. Lancelot's not in his room. Have you seen him?" Arthur asked with trepidation.

"What?" Bors' bellow was mimicked by the other knights in surprise. Gawain stood up, concern written on his face. "He was in his room, and awake, only an hour ago."

Tristan stepped up to the table from out of nowhere. "Arthur. He's on the battlements. He has been for awhile."

–– 8 ––

Lancelot had been on the battlements for an hour nearly, just looking out over the green land before him. It had been raining most of the day, making the grass glistening with diamonds in the sun that had just appeared. Sighing he sat down tiredly, his back against the wall. It reminded him so much of the endless steppes at home. Home. His synonym for a safe haven filled with love and family and friendship that cushioned him. He had been at Hadrian's Wall for nearly fourteen years now, and it had taken him at least ten of those years before he felt truly at ease here. Maybe he even felt 'at home'. The friendship between the knights that were left was strong, stronger than a bond by blood could ever be. Arthur he loved like a brother. Love, family, friendship. It had all been there before, but he didn't feel safe anymore, safe in the place that he might have started to consider as home. He had never been one to believe in heaven, or hell, for that matter. Now he didn't know if he would ever be able to believe in home again.

The sound of heavy footsteps running up the stairs pulled him out of his introspection. He felt too tired to stand up and see who was approaching.

When Arthur reached the last steps, Lancelot finally came into his view. The curly haired knight was sitting down, leaning against the wall, his eyes following Arthur as he walked towards him.

Kneeling down in front of him, Arthur took in Lancelot's appearance. He looked absolutely exhausted. "You shouldn't be here," Arthur said concerned.

Lancelot merely nodded. "I know."

"Then why are you here?" Surprise was evident in Arthur's voice.

"I was getting sick and tired of lying in bed all day." Arthur could tell that Lancelot was in a dark mindset.

To try and lighten the mood a bit, Arthur answered, "I thought that was because of the blow to your head." The smile never reached his face, as he saw Lancelot's serious gaze. "Tell me what is troubling you, Lancelot, please? Maybe I can help."

Lancelot turned his face away from Arthur, and stared into the distance without speaking at first.

"You know how we ride out of here almost daily, without knowing what the day will bring, but with the certainty that every day could be our last? How many battles have we fought? How many times have we escaped death? Every mission is seemingly more dangerous, especially now that only seven of us are left. It has never frightened me. I know I will be able to see my enemies while I fight them. If I die by the hand of one of them, then so be it. Hopefully my death will have saved one of ours. You, Gawain, Galahad, Bors, Tristan, Dagonet. I would give my life for you, for any of you."

Lancelot remained silent, but Arthur didn't dare say anything out of fear that Lancelot would't continue.

When Lancelot continued, his voice had gone even more quiet and the tiredness in it was tangible. "But knowing that you are going out there and could get killed every time is entirely different from being attacked by one who is on your own side, from being attacked there where it is supposedly safe."

Lancelot sagged against the wall even further. Arthur reached out a hand, and touched his knee. Lancelot looked up slowly with pained dark eyes.

"I was starting to think about this…" he continued while gesturing around with his right arm, "this place as my home. A home where my friends are safe, where I am safe. I think of you as my family…" Lancelot dropped his head in his hands on his knees. He drew in an uncertain breath, which made his shoulders shudder.

Arthur had to strain his hearing when the Sarmatian continued again.

"And now all of that is gone… I don't feel safe anymore. I'm afraid, not for myself, but for all of you who I consider my family. I feel like I've lost my home all over again. It's broken and I don't know how to put it back together again. I don't know how to deal with an invisible enemy."

Arthur placed his other hand on Lancelot's face, and careful of the healing bruises made him look up at him.

"You're forgetting something, my brother. You're not alone in this. When you were taken from Sarmatia, you were truly alone. Your family was taken from you, there was no one left to look after you, and no one left to look after. I know how hard you tried not to get close to anyone when you arrived here, out of fear of losing them again. But not now. You're right, we're family now. And we are all here, and we will all look after one another. You don't have to watch all of our backs on your own, Lancelot. We will all keep each other safe. Don't carry this burden alone. It's not yours alone to bear."

Lancelot released a sob that he hadn't realized he had been holding. Swiftly, Arthur moved to sit next to him, and pulled him into an embrace.

"Feel safe again in knowing that all your brothers-in-arms are watching out for you. And for each other!" Arthur felt Lancelot nodding slightly in his arms. "If you watch my back in battle when we're out there, then I'll watch yours right here."

Lancelot raised his head and leaned back against the wall. Arthur could see the many emotions crossing his features, the dark eyes filled with uncertainty and hope and fear. "Will you be alright?" the Roman asked quietly.

Lancelot nodded slowly. "Give me some time." He turned his pale face towards Arthur. "Thank you," he added softly. They sat together in love and friendship for some time.

"Of course," Arthur said in a teasing tone, "if you would lay off the women, I wouldn't have to watch your back in here at all…"

Lancelot smirked. "And give Galahad and Gawain a chance to get to them? I don't think so!"

"Or me," Arthur added.

Lancelot started snickering and then burst out laughing.

"Hey, I know how to please the ladies, you know!" Arthur tried to look dignified, but soon he was laughing along with Lancelot, glad to see his best friend acting more like himself again.

When their laughter died down, Lancelot slumped back against the wall again. Arthur could see how their talk had taking its toll on him, draining him from his last reserves. He quickly stood. "Now are you going back to your bed willingly, or do I have to carry you there once more?"

Lancelot jumped up in mock horror. Immediately, he collapsed against the wall when a wave of dizziness came over him.

Arthur's smile froze on his face. "Lancelot!"

Lancelot could feel how Arthur got a hold of his arm, while he pressed his head against the cold stones. He remained still while specks of light were dancing in front of his eyes.

Arthur watched on anxiously while Lancelot kept his eyes closed, his face another shade paler.

Slowly Lancelot opened his eyes again, grabbing hold of Arthur's shoulder to steady himself. Arthur moved to drape Lancelot's arm over his shoulder so he could ensure that the Sarmatian wouldn't collapse to the ground if anything else happened.

"I'm okay. It's passing already." Lancelot said, drawling slightly as his head throbbed painfully. He suddenly felt his other arm being lifted also and draped over a shoulder. Surprised he saw how Galahad was standing on his right side. He never had seen Galahad running up the stairs. "How…?" It took too much effort to finish the question coherently.

Arthur smiled gratefully at Galahad. He had noted how Galahad had immediately spurted up the many stairs the moment Lancelot sagged against the wall. The others were waiting at the foot of the stairs. Guiding Lancelot cautiously down the stairs, Arthur answered before Galahad did. "I told you we will always watch out for you. As you do for us."


End file.
